FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls
The Fine Art of Spycraft

She tilted her head in satisfaction at his answer.

“It’s my fine face.” He did a sweep of his fingers beneath his chin as testament.

She scoffed. “No. It is skill. I watched you.” She charged. “I saw how deeply you looked at them, the casual little touches.” She nodded toward his hands. “Every glance, every contact is designed to seduce a woman. You treat them each like they’re the only woman in the room when you’re talking to them.”

He grunted. She’s not wrong.

“It’s how I garner invites to every ballroom and hear every morsel of gossip to take back to My King.”

“I know.”

“My skill on the dance floor does me no harm, either.” He smirked.

Admittedly trying to goad her.

“No, it does not.” She agreed. “You are quite good.”

How many compliments is that tonight? He gave her a suspicious study. What’s she want from me? She’s after something…

“I used to think you spread the rumors of being a womanizer yourself to hide your true desires…”

She means a bloody Boy-Lover. Which I’ve never been! The mere idea made him nauseous.

“Now I realize there’s a high probability those rumors are true.” She said thoughtfully as her gaze narrowed on him.

She’s implying I’m promiscuous.

Not currently. But I have been in the past. He wasn’t going to waste time bothering to deny it.

“Perhaps I like the company of women.”

“Perhaps I’d prefer to be the only woman you’d want the company of.” She countered, shocking him.

But when he gave her another quick look she was paying him not attention. Looking over the dancefloor for herself.

He eyed her profile. What is she getting at? That was a bold statement.

Another woman wandered the room to reach them. Her eyes fixated on Rhyers in such a way that it was clear she’d no intention of even acknowledging Ebony’s presence on his arm.

His nose twitched in his ire at the knowledge.

Ebony stiffened as she felt a back press hers.

A tall, hard built man making purposeful contact with her. “He’s quite smooth, is he not?”

“Indeed…” She said pensively.

“He’s unending charm when he wishes to be.” The man chuckled fondly. “They quite hunger to dance with an expert at footwork such as he.”

“Yes, they do.” She agreed. “Is there a point to this little chat?”

“Admittedly.”

“Then do arrive at it.” She nodded and smiled as another woman greeted her and moved on. “I’m uncomfortable with men talking to me in such a way. Especially when I can’t see who they are.”

“It is better if you do not see me, trust me on that.”

“Why? Do I know you?”

“No. But you’d want to. All women do…”

“Conceited.”

“Factual.” He corrected. Saying hello to someone passing by, himself.

“I heard you saying he gives women his focus as though they are the only woman in the room.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Good hearing. I didn’t know anyone was so close.” She scowled.

“I wasn’t. And I do have exceptional hearing.”

“What is your point, Sir?”

“Wouldn’t it be lovely to be the focal point of all that attention?”

“It quite would, I think.”

“Then demand it.” He lurched away from her. “He’ll most certainly give it to you, if you desire it.”

“And why is that?” She whipped around to see a broad back and long blonde hair flowing freely down his back as he shook another man’s hand. She waited patiently for him to finish.

The man turned his head the slightest bit to give her only a glimpse of an attractive profile as one eye barely flicked sideways over his shoulder. “Because he desires you. ’Tis written all over him.”

“And who are you to know?” She asked up at him.

“His friend.”

“He hasn’t spoken of a friend such as you.”

“He probably hasn’t spoken of many of his friends, such as me.” He flashed a grin. Revealing a slashing dimple at the corner of his mouth.

“Would you seduce him then?”

“Possibly…Were it not unladylike to do so.”

“Bah!” He scoffed. “You don’t give a fig for that.”

“Don’t I?”

“Not in the least.” His voice rose before he added in a whisper. “Or you wouldn’t be here with a spy.”

She looked frantically around but saw no one was close enough to hear.

“Will you do it?” He emphasized each word as his back stiffened as though tempted to turn to her to ask the question. He was accustomed to control and power and not facing her fully felt like relinquishing some of that.

“Fine. I will.” She said. Wanting to get away from this disconcerting conversation. “Who are you?”

“Sebastian. Lord Bodane. It’s very good to finally meet you, Miss Marshall.”

Her gaze narrowed on his back. Recognizing him as familiar. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

“Not in truth. ’Twasn’t my best face. But I intend amends through your affection for one another.”

“I know who you are.” She said suspiciously.

“Then you know I’m saying something to you because he is my brother. And I know, as you know, that he deserves happiness.” Without a word more he looked forward, adjusted his overcoat, and took a long step. Moving to eerily vanish into the crowd.